


A Church Pew in the Sun at Midday

by honeyedlion



Series: Stocking!verse [1]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Church Sex, Crossdressing, Gender Exploration, Genderfluid Character, M/M, Mind Games, Off Hiatus, Religious Discussion, She figures it out in the end, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 08:46:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyedlion/pseuds/honeyedlion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian hunts him down, and then strings him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Church Pew in the Sun at Midday

As Sebastian stepped into the church, doors falling closed behind him with a hush of wood, and oiled metal hinges, a smile was already gracing his lips. It had been a long chase around the town, a long game of tag he had played with his master, and he was pleased to have reached the end. He was even more pleased about the prospect of his prize.

And when his eyes finally lit upon him, perched at the edge of a pew, pious as an angel, his smile widened into something feral and fierce.

Lately, Ciel had taken to dressing differently. The first morning, Sebastian thought he was joking when he refused the neat suit his butler had pulled from the closet, and instead pointed to the pretty mess of ruffles and ribbons and sharp whalebone that resided in the remote corner of his wardrobe, the bedraggled remnant of a kidnapping.

But he hadn’t been. His little master had been entirely serious.

A whim, Sebastian had thought, and nothing more. He was fifteen now, his master, and still slender and delicate, growing so elegantly from a boy into a man, that Sebastian was sometimes shocked by the beauty of his charge. It was understandable, this curiosity, this need to… to experiment when one looked into the mirror and saw something so fey, and entrancing.

The next day, Ciel sent for a seamstress. Not Nina, he had specified, his eyes oh-so serious as he sat, a perfect painting of a lordling behind his imposing oaken desk. He needed someone who was efficient, and would ask no questions.  
  
And, he had added, almost absentmindedly the thin china handle of his teacup held in a delicate grip, someone who was very good with women’s clothing.

And what was he to say to that, but ‘Yes, my lord.’

That day he was wearing silk and satin, huge flowing ripples of heavy, rich fabric that draped over him in delicate folds. His waist was trim, held snug by the corset that just that morning Sebastian had bound him into. His hair, which had been left to grow those last few months, curled into waves around the edges of his ears, barely brushing the line of his jaw. The blue studs he wore winked in the dim light.  
  
He was truly beautiful, untouchable, a curious creature in cream and cobalt, wool cloak falling from his shoulders. His eyes were trained on the cross in front of him, but Sebastian could see the small smirk on his painted mouth, the delicate rise and fall of his bared collarbones as he breathed nervously at simply the knowledge of Sebastian’s presence.

Sebastian walked into the room, making his footsteps heavy and deliberate to announce his presence. The church smelled rich, of incense and wine, carnal smells for a holy place. He could smell the sweet rose and powder scent of Ciel, the smell of boy, and wealth and the rushing warmth that hinted of blood and soul. It was an intoxicating combination.  
  
“Sebastian.” And Ciel turned to face him, piously clasped hands falling to rest in a silk-draped lap, eyes fixed on him steadily, but demurely. (He loves Ciel as he is, but Sebastian has to admit the pretty ingenue he purports to be when dressed in such fripperies is also quite charming.)  
  
Full pink painted lips were wetted by a quick tongue, before sharp teeth sank into the plump flesh. Sebastian felt his own mouth begin to water in response.

Quite charming indeed.

“Come sit down, Sebastian. You may sit next to me. After all, butler or no, we are all equal before God.”  
  
Sebastian marveled at the even tone displayed, the feminine lilt trilling over words which he knew his master believed not at all. His eyes caught on the pale line of delicate neck as Ciel shifted casually to look at him, eyes wide and framed with thick lashes to make them dizzyingly large, even as one pale hand reached out to rest on his knee.

“Yes, young Mistress?”  
  
One of the first times Ciel had dressed in such a manner, the newly stitched and flounced green riding dress making him look slender and commanding, a virgin huntress, he had made the mistake of calling him ‘young master’.

Ciel could wield a riding crop equally no matter the presentation, or what amount of clothes he wore.  
  
The young mistress reached up to tap his lips thoughtfully with one delicate finger, hands kitten-small, and so white against his mouth.  
  
“It’s just…” He trailed off for a minute and Sebastian watched him think patiently, the very coyness imbued in the gesture charming him further. He loved the delicacy of this Ciel, something so normally unseen in his young master. He was crushed by the pressures of his past, and his position that to see him smiling and laughing and frowning so prettily was a true if silly pleasure. “I am beginning to worry for your soul, Sebastian.”  
  
Eyebrows rising, Sebastian opened his mouth, although he wasn’t sure what he was going to say. Before anything could slip from his lips, the same cold little finger pressed against his open mouth, shushing him.  
  
“So.” Ciel carried on, hand poised before his butler’s face, eyes alight with hungry interest even as his mouth was forced into a concerned moue. “I have decided to pray for you. After all Sebastian, we all must think of what will become of us. Our souls must go somewhere.”  
  
And Sebastian smiled, eyes flashing, and he could hear as Ciel’s heartbeat sped up, the silk rustling deliciously as he stood, an angel before him, eyes glowing with excitement, cheeks already flushing.  
  
“However, I need help praying. I am long out of practice.”  
  
Sebastian nodded eyes wide and solemn mouth still quirked into a half-smile and at the motion the finger fell away.

“Of course, my lady. I will do anything you require of me. Looking after your soul is my only duty.”  
  
Ciel smiled, a mysterious little curve, and stepped forward, closer and closer, and Sebastian could feel his pants already growing tight just from the look of him, the sweet smell of dried roses, the way he moved so carefully, his tiny frame making each step in pointed French heels. Another step and Sebastian let his eyes widen, mouth falling open a little and made as if to scoot back.

  
“Young mistress, you can’t-in front of god-“

“Shhh” Ciel crooned, and slid suddenly forward into Sebastian’s lap, and Sebastian filled his hands with slippery silk and warm boy to keep him from sliding, drawing him closer as though unintentionally. “Shhh, Sebastian. Didn’t you say you would help me? Didn’t you say you would make me pray?”  
  
Ciel was already his prey. Captured, and waiting quietly to be devoured.

But that part of him was not part of this game. For that was all this was, a pretty game to pass the time, a game of wits and teeth and tongues, a game of gasps and moans and sighs. Sebastian knew this game well, but never had it been quite so much fun.  
  
“I… I did…” And he allowed his expression to cloud, looking uncertain, and Ciel smiled triumphantly before reaching for one of his hands and sliding it under his skirt. His hand brushed silky hose, and warm thigh, and he let a gasp escape his lips even though he wanted to growl.  
  
“Here…” Ciel murmured, and Sebastian found his hand against something warm, and alive, pressed against a pair of delicate undergarments. He could feel Ciel’s warmth hard against his palm, moisture from the tip already seeping through the fabric to slide slickly against his skin. His fingers tightened around him, clenching them just enough to watch Ciel’s eyes flutter, mouth open in a pleased moan, before he pulled his hand away as though burned.

He smirked inwardly at the look of disappointment that painted Ciel’s pretty face, the flash of anger at being disobeyed sparking his insolent eyes.  
  
“Young mistress, this is a sin-“  
  
“Sebastian.” He murmured and despite the softened tones he can hear the biting undertone, the iron of his will. “Make me pray.”  
  
“Yes, Young Mistress.” And Sebastian let his hands slip back under the cool dress. And under there, under the delicate tenting of fabric it was not cool at all. His master was warm and sticky, and when Sebastian wrapped a hand around him, delicate thighs tensed, tender muscle squeezing together at the feeling. His hands pumped him for only a moment, before pulling away, the pads of his fingers betraying his desire to continue.  
  
Ciel opened his mouth, and Sebastian kissed him before he could protest, a hungry kiss, one that had nothing to do with God or the church. It was sharp and demanding, and fiery hot. And he could hear Ciel whining, a curious keening sound coming from the back of his throat. Sebastian stood quickly, and deposited Ciel back onto the pew, a quick tumble of flounced fabric, before kneeling before him.  
  
Sebastian watched the protests his charge was about to make die a quick death as he began to scatter whisper soft kisses along his ankle, slipping one cream and silver shoe off a small pink foot. The other received the same treatment, and when he hooked Ciel’s knees over his shoulders, wrinkling his uniform in the process, tiny hands were balled into fists, knuckles white on the soft blue silk and Sebastian felt his face flushing. (That strange human reaction he has only to cats and his master begging in dresses

Truly human forms are incomprehensible.

  
The skirts were lifted up just long enough to duck his head under, and then he let the heavy masses of fabric rush back around him, the sound a sensual slither. The underwear, pale blue silk, trimmed with the most fragile of lace, was stretched around Ciel’s arousal, a damp streaky line darkening the fabric in the front. The flushed head of his master peeked from the waistband, a testament to how much he truly wanted this. It looked red, and dirty against the clean stretch of silk, and the white of his soft thighs.  
  
Sebastian felt his mouth watering again, and when the silk was pulled down and his mouth was wrapped around the wet length, his smile became stretched and distorted.  
  
Ciel moaned, a high breathy and overall feminine sound, and it made his blood race. He licked carefully around the head, soaking him thoroughly. (Later he would have trouble concentrating as he washed these delicate garments, cleaning his saliva and the sticky fluid that dripped from the head of Ciel’s cock.) The young master was only fifteen, and he was small, easy to suck into his mouth, to wrap his tongue around. Sebastian liked the metallic taste of him, the way his thighs would tremble under his hands, the way Ciel had hands fisted into his uniform, grasping helplessly at the back of his suit as he ruined the pretty mistress with his mouth, lips wrapped slickly around his cock, the length fitting so perfectly into him.  
  
“God…” Ciel moaned and his body shuddered, making Sebastian smile around the hot flesh in his mouth. He pulled away with an audible pop, and Ciel let out a strangled choking sound, and tiny heels drummed on the floor. As replacement, Sebastian belatedly removed his gloves, tossed them carelessly to the floor, and slid two of his own fingers into his mouth. He could hear Ciel panting above him, and imagined the picture he must make, cheeks flushed with light rouge and heavy want, mouth open and swollen from being bitten. The tightness of his corset restricting every gasped breath and he loved the way every inhale was so sharp and defined due to the restrictive garment.  
  
It was one of many reasons he tied it so tight in the morning.  
  
He pulled his fingers from his mouth, and slid the first into Ciel with surprising ease, ears listening intently to the stream of prayer and blasphemy that spilled helplessly from the boy’s mouth, loud in the quiet church. The second finger joined the first, before he bent back to his previous task, sucking harder, pulling him deeper into the hellish warmth of his mouth. Ciel was mewling and tossing underneath him, small hands pulling his skirt up, causing the bunched fabric to spill like a lush frame around the spectacle between his thighs.  
  
Inside, Ciel was warm and tight, the muscles slick and rippling around his crooked fingers. It made his heart pound, his blood racing in his ears, and for every noise, Sebastian worked harder, sucking him more intensely, lashing his tongue against the small, sensitive rounded head, the thrumming motion making Ciel thrash in turn underneath him. He could hear the thin gasping pants of his breath, the way the tightly bound corset creaked as he tried to suck more air into his lungs, the heavy rustle of the rich dress against the pew.

Sebastian pulled back slowly, watching as Ciel shook at the sudden lack of sensation, the coolness of the air. He was a gorgeous debauched picture, skirt framing white thighs and the leaking swollen length of his cock out on display. Pretty silk and lace underwear shoved hastily to the side, twisted and damp with his saliva. The light poured down from the stained glass windows makes his skin glisten obscenely, open to the air.  
  
His other glove was pulled off, and dropped carelessly to the floor. Ciel watched his face, mouth red, not from the paint he spread on casually every morning, but from biting into it in the fever of his lust. His eyes were huge, and skittish, the pleasure and sudden stop of such making him nervous.  
  
The only sound in the church was the sound of his breathing.  
  
Sebastian pulled his coat from his shoulders and draped it delicately across a pew, coiling the pocket watch he kept clipped to waist neatly on top. His shirts were un-tucked in a quick flurry of movement, and he watched as Ciel watched him, eyes hungry on the flick of his fingers, the arch of his arms, the fall of his hair and on his hands as they traced down to rest at the waist of his neat black slacks.  
  
His fingers popped the first button, then the second and the third, and already Sebastian was pressing eagerly into the feel of his own hand, hips moving unconsciously into any friction, having forgone any undergarments.  
  
As he normally did, when Ciel woke and requested clothes from the armoire across the room. Sitting in his bed as though it is a throne, one finger pointing ramrod straight to the carved cabinet that held such wonders.  
  
Ciel. Ciel who was turning over, huge gathers of frothy ruffles, and delicate lace bunched into his fists as he knelt on the pew, tiny silk panties hanging from one ankle, stained and crumpled, the delicate silk probably ruined. His ass was white and round, spread wide enough for Sebastian to see his hole, red and grasping and the slick, dripping length of him underneath. It made him smile. It made him want.  
  
He walked forward, one hand still wrapped around his own length, and Ciel twisted around as well as he could in the restrictive corset, bare knees pressed into the unforgiving wood of the bench, watching as Sebastian walked towards him, cock exposed so indecently. His eyelashes were huge, and Sebastian realized that he was wearing powder, his lids delicately rimmed in kohl, made to look wide, and vapid. The thought of Ciel sitting at his mirror, delicately applying the blackening powder to his eyes, mouth distorted, made him curse, and Ciel smiled at him, a knowing smirk of lips.  
  
“Shouldn’t you be repenting?” Sebastian murmured bitingly, and his voice was cold with concentration, as he watched a shiver run through his young master at the sound, his thighs trembling. He had to hold him steady to fuck into him, one hand braced flat against the smooth white cheek of his ass, his thumb stretching him open. Sliding into him was- was. Sebastian’s eyes slid closed, tiny fangs sinking into his lower lip at the sensation.

“Oh, god, Sebastian,” Ciel was bucking now, his body writhing back and forth awkwardly on the pew as Sebastian stood still, fucking himself back onto the stationary man. His face was red with exertion, eyes mostly pupil, his mouth a rich strawberry smear, and Sebastian reached around rubbing a thumb across him mouth, watching the delicate rouge smear down Ciel’s chin. “God, please, fuck me I need you, please Sebastian-“  
  
Sebastian pulled back, his hands guiding the young boys hips into him, watching him lose the pretty painted act he’d put on all morning. His movements stuttered, and his voice varied from soft feminine sighs, to low moaning grunts as Sebastian thrust into him, his cock pulling around and against the fluttering muscles, and when Sebastian paused again one slender hand snaked down to his cock, pumping himself gently. Demurely. Neatly trimmed oval nails pressing into the wet slit.  
  
Sebastian groaned, his eyes sliding closed, as he fucked into him harder, listening to the cries that poured from Ciel’s mouth, every possible combination of plea, prayer and blasphemy all combining with the butler’s own name. The heavy thumping creak of the church pew as their bodies collided into each other. The thick taste of incense on his tongue. The rattle of the door.  
  
The rattle of the-  
  
Sebastian’s eyes snapped open. His cock pulled free with a wet pop, and the feeling almost unmanned him, almost made him come right there. Ciel let out a quiet shriek at the harsh sensation, before whirling around, flushed face all pretty indignation, still crouching like a whore in the middle of the church in broad daylight, having come in a carriage baring the Phantomhive crest.  
  
Sebastian had no time for his anger, only quickly mounting sexual frustration and the beginnings of a headache.  
   
He picked Ciel up one handed, and grabbed at their clothes with the other, before darting for the confessional across the room. Ciel was beating at his back with tiny angry fists, and as the dark curtain slid shut Sebastian let his master tumble untidily to the floor. His rumpled dress pooled around him, like flowers petals. It was terribly appealing.  
  
“Sebastian!” Ciel whispered harshly, and Sebastian shushed him, which made him flounder impotent with rage, face sweaty, hair mussed, shoeless, and dress tenting provocatively in the front where he was still hard and wanting. “What-!”  
  
“Someone was coming. They still are. Hush.”  
  
“Yes, me.” Ciel hissed, but he quieted, leaning his head against the wall and looking at Sebastian with cool eyes. Sebastian paid him no mind. He stood frozen listening to the priest walk up the aisle, and prayed he grabbed everything, the shoes, his coat, his watch, and the underwear. Did he grab the underwear? He couldn’t feel them in his pocket just the feeling of small hands wrapping around his cock-  
  
His eyes flew back to Ciel who looked pleased with himself, as he maneuvered Sebastian into him where he was standing, ass out, heels placed back on dainty feet to make him tall enough. The movement was practiced, and Sebastian swallowed, and cursing when he felt the head of him sink slowly into Ciel, catching on the rim, before pushing in steadily.  
  
“Shhh.” Ciel whispered and his eyes were vicious at the sign of his weakness and want, and yes, Sebastian loved him pretty and bound in lace, but vicious and bloodied with others pain was how he first met him, and how he always loved him best. “You have to be quiet.”  
  
Sebastian stretched arms over him, pinning him in, hips already thrusting into the tight heat helplessly, and he buried his face into the warm arch of Ciel’s neck, his breath sticky and hot across the sensitive skin. He felt him shake. He was so close. So close.

Ciel tugged one of his hands down, and then whined, low and quiet in his throat, eyes sliding shut as Sebastian worked his cock in short jerky pulls, his movements rough with the rush of his own impending release, fingers made stupid with pleasure. “God, Sebastian, please. Please, please, please, Sebastian-“  
  
His voice was high, neither male nor female only pure rasping need, and Sebastian shivered at the sound. In moments like that, Ciel was so close to the rush of his soul, the smell poured from his skin like a perfume.  
  
“Is that an order?” And Ciel let out a choked gasp at the words, thick sticky release painting the wall, and dripping from Sebastian’s hand. His muscles contracted painfully tight, sucking him in and Sebastian let his release take him with a low groan. He could dimly hear Ciel crying out as he fucked into him roughly, spending himself far inside of the young boy.  
  
He pulled back after a long moment panting, and he could feel Ciel trembling slightly, his arms, and legs shaking under him. Pulling back, Sebastian was suddenly worried he’d actually hurt him, that he’d-

Ciel turned to look at him, eyes wide with anger, mouth a thin line.  
  
“Sebastian!” He hissed, an angry kitten all glowing eyes and raised fur. “You came inside of me, and I don’t have any underwear! Sebast- SEBASTIAN. I order you to stop laughing! You-!”  
  
Somewhere in the background church bells tolled.  


**Author's Note:**

> Repent your [sins](http://honeyedlion.tumblr.com/). Or submit a request.


End file.
